


The Way it Goes Down....

by BarefootGirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-25
Updated: 2013-04-25
Packaged: 2017-12-09 12:33:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/774236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarefootGirl/pseuds/BarefootGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crowley is a reasonable demon.  He's willing to make a deal.  Anything to keep from being stuck inside Hell for the rest of Eternity....</p>
<p>Sam Winchester is a reasonable man.  He also thinks too much.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The third trial might end, not with a bang or a whimper, but a negotiation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Way it Goes Down....

Sam had been determined to go through with the third trial. Dean had accepted that - but he wasn’t going to let him go alone.

In the end, it took seven of them to get it done, and only four were left standing in the end.

Well, five, if you counted the demon.

 

“Now, now boys, let’s not be hasty, hey?” Crowley looked at the bodies scattered in the warehouse, then back at Sam standing directly in front of him, just out of reach. “Have you thought this out all the way, really?”

“I’d call this pretty well-considered, actually,” Dean growled, the angel blade held ready in his hand, as though expecting Crowley to try and make a break for it, despite the demon trap constraining him. The Hunter was bleeding from a cut on his face, and holding his other arm at an awkward angle, but Crowley had little doubt that he’d go down swinging. At him, specifically.

“I’m just saying, slamming closed the gates of Hell, that’s a pretty major step. There’s a reason it’s not easy. Since Creation, the gates have been open… for a reason, I might add. Balancing the cosmos, and all that. Are you sure that you want to take such…drastic measures?” He made a tut-tutting noise. “Breaking the Cosmos, not always ending up well for humans, boys.” He slid a glance at the older Winchester, playing his trump card. "And it won't end up well for you, you know that, right Sammy? The lock turns the key and then" he made a gesture with his fingers "pff."

Dean's jaw might have tightened at that, although Crowley wasn't sure it could get much tighter without shattering.

“Cas?” Sam looked over his shoulder at the angel. “Is he telling the truth?”

“It is… not inconceivable that there are…unexpected reactions to the closing of the Gate,” the angel admitted. “Potentially significant ones. And you may die, yes.”

“You offering an alternative?” Sam asked, scoffing slightly. Crowley raised an eyebrow: he was pretty sure the younger Winchester was coughing up blood. Maybe some lung in there, too. Might be too late for the key to come back. He wasn't going to say _that_ , though.

“I’m saying…can’t we work this out, somehow?” He had his smooth salesman voice working, trying to find some way out of this that didn’t end up with him banished back to Hell, the infernal gates locked forever. He enjoyed being King of Hell, but being stuck there? Not his cuppa. “You, me, negotiating an acceptable settlement?”

“No.” But the response wasn’t as fast or as firm as it should have been.

“Sam?” Kevin asked, his voice hesitant, and Crowley smiled. He’d been right, the prophet was waiting on Sam to give the green light before reciting the final passage on the tablet. Everything rested with the key.

“Do it, Sammy,” Dean ground out. “I don't like it hell you _know_ I don't like it. We been over this how many times? But we've got the chance to shut those bastards up forever." His voice broke, and Crowley almost smiled at the despair in his voice. "Don't listen to him. We can’t trust Crowley.”

“No,” Sam said, wiping the spittle and blood off his mouth with the back of his arm, staring at the demon. “No, we can. It’s the devil who is the father of lies. Hell plays by the rules, doesn’t it?”

“Always have,” Crowley said, spreading his hands. “A bargain’s only a bargain if both sides hold to it, you two should know that by now. And none of us want the world to end. So what’s your offer, Moose?”

“Say you’re right, and locking the gate does damage to this world. Theoretically. And theoretically, we could make a deal to stop that from happening." He coughed again, and there was definitely lung in those flecks. "What do you want, Crowley?”

The demon laughed, a sarcastic huff. “What do I ever want?”

“No. Seriously…out of all this best case scenario, what do you want?”

Crowley slowly realized that Sam was serious. He'd actually gotten through to the meathead. The demon looked at him, then at his brother, barely leashed from plunging that annoying blade into the demon’s host, and behind him, the prophet, covered in mud, clutching the tablet like a teddy bear. The angel, looking adorably concerned, was standing just behind Dean. Of course.

“What I’ve always wanted,” Crowley said. “The status quo was fine by us, for how many millennia? Take a few souls, tempt a few good men for kicks, work a few deals… Wasn’t my idea to start the blooming Apocalypse, remember. I’m in sales, not annihilation.”

"Damn it, Sammy..."

“Kevin.” Sam spoke over his shoulder, ignoring his brother, never taking his eyes off Crowley even though he was still held fast by the trap. “You said something about closing the gate, not just locking it?”

“Yeah.” The prophet looked at Castiel, as though for permission, then when the angel have a brief nod, went on. “There’s… first you close it, without locking it from this side. You have to do that first, anyway. The next step is to lock it forever.”

“So…” Crowley raised en eyebrow, and waited. “I’d almost forgotten you were pre-law, Sammy. What fine print do you have in mind?”

“You close the gate to Hell. You lock it, from your side. And keep things under control. No demon wandering around, slipping out.”

“If I recall correctly, you were the ones who opened -“ Crowley subsided when Dean lifted the blade, giving the Hunter his best bitchface. “So I keep the denizens of hell on a leash. What do I get out of it?”

“You keep your title. And…”

“And access to souls. Come on, Winchesters, free will, remember? Don’t people get to make their own choices?”

“Only at crossroads,” Dean said, his gaze steady on Crowley. The angel’s chewtoy wasn’t happy, not at all, but the thought of destroying his precious world, instead of protecting it.. Yes, that was always the way to a Winchester’s soft spot: saving the world. And saving his precious little brother, of course.

“With all the rituals followed,” Dean added, and seriously, could that jaw get more granite? “No jumping the gun, or cutting corners.”

“You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you?” Crowley said, unable to pass up the shot, even now. That time, it was Castiel who made a threatening gesture, and the demon sighed. “You’ve all lost your senses of humor. Well, not you, ex-partner. You never had one. Fine, crossroads. And altars.”

“Properly made, with full intent, not kids playing with D&D manuals or a hand-me-down grimoire,” Sam countered.

“Yes, fine.  And the occasional temptation of a good soul? I mean, just to keep everyone honest and on their toes.”

“That is…acceptable,” Castiel said, and then shrugged awkwardly when everyone turned to look at him. “Faith, without testing… seems lacking.”

“I hate to say this, boys, but you’ve been a positive influence on featherbrain there. All right.” Crowley nodded. “We still need to work out some of the terms, and I want my people to go over the contract, but I’d say we have the workings of a deal here. Now, could someone please _erase this damn trap!”_

**Author's Note:**

> beta-read by obsessionisaperfume


End file.
